


A Tales of Sleeping Princess

by hellodeer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, background Mila/Sara - Freeform, background Viktor/Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodeer/pseuds/hellodeer
Summary: The story of how princess Anya saves herself.





	A Tales of Sleeping Princess

The story goes like this:

The beautiful, helpless princess Anya is cursed by an evil witch to sleep for eternity or be awaken by true love’s kiss. Her mother weeps for days, while her father has the awful witch hunted and killed. To her own protection, princess Anya is sent away to a distant castle, empty but for a maid and a dragon. The queen reasons that any men brave enough to face the beast for her daughter shall be the princess’ true love.

A season passes, and then another. Several suitors try and rescue princess Anya, but the horrible dragon breathes fire upon them, and the men either leave like cowards or die in fear of being seen as cowards. Until one day, in the dead of winter, when prince Georgi manages to trick the dragon and stab it to death with his mighty sword. He runs up the stairs to the highest tower where the princess’ room is located. He cries upon seeing her beauty.

Prince Georgi kisses princess Anya, and the spell is broken. She slowly opens her eyes, looks at him and her red, plump lips stretch to form a most beautiful smile.

“My savior,” she says, and kisses prince Georgi again.

She is rescued. They return to prince Georgi’s kingdom, where the princess’ parents await, and they cry and beam as they hug their daughter. The wedding ceremony is held a few days later. After that, they live happily ever after.

The end.

*

Man, fuck that.

This is how it actually happens:

Prince Georgi kisses princess Anya. She quickly opens her eyes and slaps him across the face, very cross.

“Anya, my love!” he cries, kneeling on the ground and covering his bruised cheek with both hands.

“I am not your love,” she tells him. “We broke up ages ago.”

“Nonsense,” prince Georgi insists. “I have come to free you from your sleeping curse. Only true love’s kiss could awaken you, and alas! You are awake!”

She rolls her eyes so hard they all but fall off her face.

“I was pretending to be asleep,” she says. “I was sitting by the window when I saw you coming. I thought that if you saw me sleeping you would give up and leave, but you are persistent.”

“True love never gives up,” he sighs.

“I see,” princess Anya says. She wants to leave this place immediately, but prince Georgi would follow her. What to do, then? There is only one way. “You shall wait, then, as I get ready to go with you.”

“Yes, my love.”

She nods at him and leaves the room, dashing down the stairs two steps at a time until she’s on ground level. There, she finds her maid sobbing over the dragon’s dead body, the bloody sword still pierced through.

“Sara,” princess Anya says, urgent, running to her. “It is no time to cry now. We have to hurry.”

“But, princess…” the maid tries to say, but princess Anya shushes her.

“No buts. Pack us a bag with our warmest clothes and food, now.”

Princess Anya hugs her maid, wipes away her tears and smiles sadly at her before leaving her to do as she was told. She ventures outside the castle, where it is freezing cold, to find prince Georgi’s horse hiding near the well. The white stallion is almost invisible against the snow, but princess Anya recognizes him and he recognizes her too.

“Hello, Carabosse,” she pets him softly, and the horse responds by lowering his head for more.

She mounts him and takes him to the open doors of the castle.

“Sara!” she yells. “Hurry!”

Princess Anya casts a glance at the highest tower. The maid comes running with a large, heavy bag the same instant prince Georgi puts his head outside her bedroom window.

“Anya!” he cries. “What are you doing?”

“Getting away from you, Georgi!” She grabs the bag from Sara and helps the maid get on the horse behind her. “Do not follow me, ever again!”

“How could I!” prince Georgi screams. He sounds mad. “You are taking my horse! How am I supposed to leave this horrible castle?”

“There is plenty of food and water to last you the winter,” she looks up at him. It’s very cold outside, but nowhere is colder to her than inside the walls of that tower, confined to that bedroom, lonely and alone for months and months.

“It is dangerous to stay here. Take me with you!”

“The dragon is slain,” she says. Behind her, Sara sobs once more. “There is no danger.”

“Anya, please!”

“Goodbye, Georgi,” and she goes, deaf to his calling of her name.

She is not sure where she is going. She just wants, _needs_ to leave that castle behind; almost anywhere would be better.

“Where you we going, my lady?” her maid asks quietly. Princess Anya briefly turns her head to look at her: Sara’s face is barely visible, covered by her hair, but the tear stains are clear. She is shivering.

“I do not know yet,” she answers. “I am sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you,” Sara says in a whisper.

As night falls, the wind starts to pick up. Princess Anya gets two blankets from the bag and hands them over to Sara, who wraps her in both.

“No, you fool,” princess Anya says. “One is for you.”

The maid lets out a shocked gasp, quickly covered up by a cough. Princess Anya rolls her eyes.

They travel for a couple more hours alongside the woods, and still no town in sight. Carabosse slows down until he’s barely moving, exhausted and hungry and cold, much like the humans he’s carrying.

“Let’s stop for tonight,” she says.

“We need a place to rest, my lady,” speaks the maid.

“I know that,” princess Anya snaps.

“There?”

Sara points to a spot to their left, a little ways into the woods. Princess Anya had not noticed it before, but it appears to be the opening of a cave.

She nods. “That will do.”

They get off the horse and string him carefully through the snow-covered ground and naked trees until they reach the cave. It appears to be empty, save for spiders and rats. It would be spacious enough for both women, but it is a tight fit with a horse. Still they all get inside. Princess Anya feeds Carabosse a couple of apples and gives him water, while Sara goes outside to try and find wood for the fire.

She comes back a few minutes later carrying some thin, wet sticks, dead leaves, and a sharp rock. Just outside the cave, the maid digs a shallow hole into the snow, where she gathers the leaves first. From a pocket on her skirt, she takes out a knife.

“Do you know what you are doing?” princess Anya asks, terrified but mostly curious.

“Of course, my lady,” the maid says. She pauses in her actions to steal a look at the princess. “Although my brother could breathe fire, our mother taught me to survive from tender age. ‘You never know when you are going to be on your own’, she used to say.”

Her voice trembles. Princess Anya pretendes she doesn’t notice, just nods and sits close to her maid, watching.

“Teach me,” she says.

The maid cannot refuse an order, so she nods. She shows princess Anya how to strike the rock against the knife just _so_ , enough to create sparks that light up the leaves. Then they add the logs to the fire and sit by it, warming themselves. There isn’t a lot to eat, since the maid packed mostly fruit, but the apples and pears are enough to satisfy their stomachs for a while.

As the maid and the horse sleep inside the cave, princess Anya looks at the stars. She had learned to read them as a child, even as it was against her mother’s wishes. It made her mad, little as she was, this difference in treatment; if her brothers could learn all about nature, and hunting, and fighting, why was she confined to sewing, and music, and good manners? 

Her mother would get very cross whenever princess Anya requested to be taught the same things as her brothers. Her father would agree with the queen, as he always did. But her brothers were kind and affectionate young men, who dotted on her and at night taught her everything they had learned during the day.

She finds the North Star in the clear sky after a few minutes of searching for it. And decides, finally, to go back home in the East, see her parents and tell them that yes, she had thought about her actions during the time out in the tower, and arrived at the conclusion she would not change who she was to please them.

She wants to explore the world. She wants to dance. She would rather take her own life than marry prince Georgi and bear his children.

In the morning, princess Anya communicates her decision to the maid. Sara simply bows her head and says “Whatever you want, my lady,” which sits heavy and wrong with her.

They set their course right of the North Star. After a couple of days of traveling with nothing but snow and woods in their sights, they finally see a village, right as they are running out of food. Stomachs rumbling, they arrive at a tavern. The sun is still high in the sky, but already the place is full of men drinking and shouting. After they get bread and meat served by a short, thin older woman, princess Anya leans across the table to whisper to her maid.

“Have we any gold?”

Sara’s mouth opens around a bite of food. She shakes her head no, panic settling in her eyes.

“Fear not,” princess Anya says, firm. “We will find a way.”

They both know she is putting on a brave face, but Sara nods and they resume eating. When the food has been mostly consumed and princess Anya still hasn’t figured out what to do, someone joins them at their table.

“Hello, ladies!”

It is someone princess Anya recognizes from parties at various kingdoms. Red hair, mischievous blue eyes, a mocking smile always dancing at the lips.

“Mila the bard,” she says, nodding.

“Princess Anya,” Mila the bard says back, doing a very exaggerated curtsy. Then she looks at the maid. “And who might this lovely lady be?”

The maid blushes. “Sara.”

“How nice to make your acquaintance,” Mila the bard purrs, resting her hand on top of Sara’s. The maid looks briefly at princess Anya before removing her hand and turning her eyes to stare at the table.

“Say, Mila the bard,” princess Anya says. “Where are we?”

“Why, this is Sambo,” she answers, smile sly. “In Petersburg.”

Princess Anya sighs.

“Petersburg neighbors our kingdom, my lady,” the maid says. She beams at princess Anya. “We are close to home!”

“Petersburg is also prince Georgi’s parents’ kingdom,” she points out.

The maid shakes her head sadly. “I had forgotten.”

“I have not seen prince Georgi since he set out to save you,” Mila the bard says. “And I have not seen _you_ since the end of your engagement, six moons ago.”

“Indeed,” princess Anya nods. “Mila the bard, have you any gold to pay for our food?”

Mila the bard smiles, but it is not a good smile. There is hatred behind it, and greed, and contempt.

“Oh?” she asks, words dripping with fake innocence. “Do you need my help?”

“Yes,” princess Anya answers, keeping her head high, looking Mila the bard in the eyes.

“And why would I help you, _your highness_?”

She knows Mila the bard has a personal grudge against all royals, princess Anya’s parents in particular. In a way, they were the reason for her mother’s leaving and her father’s subsequent descent into drinking and gambling. It is what she sings about in many a song, especially when she is in the presence of anyone related to princess Anya. Mila the bard would probably leave princess Anya to be eaten by wolves if given the chance, but princess Anya knows her weakness.

“Because in exchange I will tell you everything about my and prince Georgi’s broken engagement,” princess Anya says. She smiles, small and victorious. “You are dying to know.”

Mila the bard narrows her eyes, looking like she is fighting an internal battle and losing. Finally, she sighs and throws her hands up.

“Fine, I can never deny good gossip,” then she winks at the maid. “And I do love to save beautiful maids.”

Princess Anya resists rolling her eyes while Sara smiles at Mila the bard.

After the food is paid for, the three of them go to Mila the bard’s room in the inn, where princess Anya makes good on her promise.

“I simply did not want to be betrothed to prince Georgi anymore,” she explains. “He is not a bad man, but I wanted to be… free. Of course, my parents did not take it well my breaking off our engagement. They thought it would weaken our relations with Petersburg.”

“It did,” Mila the bard smiles, wicked, genuinely pleased by the falls of the mighty.

“That is true,” princess Anya nods. “Queen Lilia was very much offended. So my parents sent me away to a distant castle, in a distant land, to ‘reflect on my behavior’. They put up a maid and a dragon to guard me there,” she gestures to Sara, who shakes her head sadly.

“They told people you had been cursed by a witch to eternal sleep.”

“Indeed, an obvious lie.”

Mila the bard’s laugh is loud and mean, scandalous really. But she seems satisfied by princess Anya’s story, knowing a truth disclosed only to few.

Exhausted, princess Anya requests to go to bed. Mila the bard points to a stack of hay on the floor, and princess Anya sighs.

“Sara, my beautiful butterfly, you can sleep on the bed with me. Leave this rebellious princess be,” Mila the bard sing-songs.

“Oh no, my lady, please,” Sara says. “I shall sleep on the floor.”

“Really, it is fine,” princess Anya waves a dismissive hand, not bothering to turn around as she lies on the hard hay on the cold floor. She knows Sara never gets the chance to be wooed like that, to be really seen. And perhaps it will lessen her sadness, too.

She falls asleep to the sounds of whispers and the bed creaking slightly.

In the morning, their bag reloaded with food and water, princess Anya gets on Carabosse, but Sara just can’t seem to. She keeps stealing glances at Mila the bard, who seems upset also, a frown between her brows.

“Sara,” princess Anya sighs. “Do you wish to stay?”

“Oh!” Sara looks hopeful for a second, but then shakes her head. “I could not leave you, my lady.”

“I asked you what you want.”

Sara is quiet for a few seconds. Carabosse is restless, wants to go, to reach his home. Princess Anya wants the same.

“Then yes, my lady, I do wish to stay,” Sara finally whispers.

Princess Anya nods at her. “Then stay,” she looks at Mila the bard. “You take good care of her.”

Mila the bard nods very seriously, taking Sara’s hand between hers.

“Goodbye, Sara,” princess Anya smiles softly. “Thank you for everything.”

She leaves on Sara’s choked up sob. It is a two day journey to the capital of Petersburg, and when she gets there, she realizes she has no idea how she will be received. Perhaps her parents repaired relations with the kingdom, perhaps not. And even if they did, asking to speak to queen Lilia after taking her son’s horse and leaving him behind in the tower is bound not to go well.

One person might be able to help her, though.

She makes her way across the busy city with her head down and finally reaches the castle. Instead of walking to the front gates, she goes around it to the stables, which are empty of humans except for one person.

It’s a woman, but she’s not like any woman princess Anya has ever seen. She is smoking a pipe, for one. She is shorter than princess Anya, with hair two different colors: black at the roots, and yellow on the rest. It’s very short, too; it doesn’t even reach her shoulders. Her eyes are brown like princess Anya’s, though the shape of them is different. She is dressed in a sort of robe, it looks like, the silk red and white with a floral pattern. It is held together by a large, dark green belt. She is also wearing socks and sandals, not the kind of footwear one would choose to work the stables.

“Hello,” princess Anya says slowly. “Can you understand me?”

Princess Anya can speak a handful of languages, but she has never seen anyone who looks like this woman. She must be from a far away land, and speak a far away language.

The woman snorts, and indeed says something in a tongue princess Anya can’t decipher. It has a lot of vowels, but more than that, the speaker sounds mocking and a little bit mean. Princess Anya just frowns at the woman, who finally sighs, exhaling smoke through her nose.

“Yes, I can understand you,” she says, muffled, putting emphasis where emphasis should not be, but it is enough.

“I am princess Anya, of the kingdom of Tanets. I need to see prince Viktor.”

“Then go see him,” says the foreigner. She leans against the wall in a lazy, bored way. Carabosse leaves Anya’s side and goes to her to get petted.

“I cannot,” Anya says. “Queen Lilia must not know I am here. Please.”

The woman exhales smoke once more, pets the horse’s head and leaves. Princess Anya is not sure she got her message across until a few minutes later, when prince Viktor appears in the stables with a warm, welcoming smile.

“Anya!” he says cheerfully. She frowns at him, for he does not sound like prince Viktor at all. His voice is genuinely happy, pleased to see her. “And Carabosse! Where is Georgi?”

Princess Anya tells him. To her surprise, prince Viktor laughs loud enough to startle the horses nearby.

“What a terrible thing to do, Anya,” he says, but he’s smiling, eyes sparkling. “I will need to send someone for him! I am getting married in a fortnight, and my brother cannot miss it.”

“You, getting married?” princess Anya blinks in surprise. Last she heard, prince Viktor was a bachelor who refused to settle, no matter how much his mother insisted. “To that foreign woman?”

“No,” and his whole expression changes. His face morphs into something soft, calm, in love. “I am marrying her brother.”

“Oh.”

“And you are invited, of course! I would love to see you dancing. Even after what you did to my brother. I understand why you did it, Anya. You should not marry but for love.”

He sounds fierce, so sure of what he is saying. Princess Anya is happy for him.

“Congratulations on your engagement, prince Viktor,” she bows. “I would very much like to attend the ceremony. But I need to go home first.”

“Of course,” he winks.

Prince Viktor gets her a carriage, a horse and a coachman named Emil. Princess Anya sleeps and prepares her speech for most of the three-day journey, picturing her parents’ faces when she walks into the throne room. Her father will look shocked. Her mother will have a mixture of disgust and disappointment in her expression. Her brothers, if they are there, will look proud and happy.

In the morning of the third day, they arrive.

“Take the horse to the stables,” she tells Emil, after he’s helped her off the carriage. “Then go to the kitchen to eat a hot meal. You can rest in the servant’s quarters for as long as you wish. Say that princess Anya has sent you.”

Emil nods, his ever-present smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Thank _you_ , Emil,” she says.

Whispers run fast as she walks through the halls of the castle. Gossip is quicker than wind. She hasn’t washed in days. Her dress is dirty and wrinkled, her hair is a mess, but she does not care. She keeps her head high.

The doors of the throne room open for her. Indeed her father looks shocked, her mother disgusted and disappointed, and her brothers proud and happy.

She smiles at all of them. It is good to be home. But it will be even better to leave on her own, to explore the world, to meet people, to _dance_. 

To be free.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as part of the [primadonna zine](https://yoiprimadonnazine.tumblr.com), which celebrated the women of yoi and raised more than $800 for the dr. susan love research foundation! :)
> 
> thanks to @DuendeJunior for being an awesome beta as usual <3


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